


Of Suits and Leather

by hope27



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope27/pseuds/hope27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Oliver and Felicity get stuck in close quarters on the run from members of the Triad, Felicity has to help Oliver change from his Arrow suit into his dress suit.  They get a little sidetracked...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Suits and Leather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [effie214](https://archiveofourown.org/users/effie214/gifts), [diggo26](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=diggo26).



> A/N: Yeah, I blame this one on a lot of people. diggo26 started it with THIS pictures. effie214 is blamed because of her sexy times convos from last night. And anthfan is to blame for telling me to just do it. (I’m sorry if this did not come out like you thought it would…)
> 
> So, without further ado, I give you the ficlet in which they make out in a closet…
> 
> As always, I really do LOVE hearing what you think! Please let me know! I appreciate all of your support! *BIG BIG HUGS*

There wasn’t enough time. 

They rounded the corner of the hallway, armed guards twenty paces behind them, the gala in full swing straight down the hallway.

The benefit had been their cover for this particular mission. Throwing it in the old Theater district where the recent drug trafficking had been traced back to through months of police surveillance. QC sponsored, all the profits were going to the fund started for the families affected by the Undertaking. It was something Felicity had helped Oliver start after he got the company back. 

She had tracked the Triad to the operation, pinpointing the devices she needed to get information from that would tell them their next shipment of both drugs and weapons. 

Everything had gone according to plan until an extra set of guards had shown up - apparently the Triad had doubled patrols knowing there would be more people in the area.

Oliver had grabbed Felicity’s arm, and led her towards the windows. He’d managed to secure the line to the other building immediately, and she hadn’t hesitated to wrap her free arm around his neck and bury her face against his chest as they zip-lined across the alley. Diggle had come over the comms, voice worried and Oliver answered in gruff, short replies as they ran.

It hadn’t stopped the men after them, who followed suit and now they were barreling towards the entrance to the party with Oliver in full Arrow gear.

She spotted the closet they’d stashed Oliver’s tux in to the right and tugged on his arm. He got her silent message and, in seconds, they were surrounded by nothing but darkness, the door latching softly behind them.

The space was small - smaller than Felicity had realized when he’d changed in here earlier. Oliver’s large frame took up most of the space and she found herself pressed up against him, their chests rising and falling with each labored breath.

As the voices grew louder, they both froze, holding their breath as footsteps pounded by them, hesitating before continuing down the corridor.

Felicity’s cell phone buzzed insistently in her pocket and she hissed as she reached for it, shifting her body forwards to get it out of her back pocket.

Oliver sucked in a deep breath, and she felt heat flood her cheeks as his fingers dug into her hip, a low sound rumbling up through his chest.

Light illuminated the dim space for a brief second as she swiped over the home screen.

She cursed softly, holding it up for Oliver to see. The text was from Digg. He’d stalled as long as he could. His speech was in five minutes.

Oliver swore, and the she felt him moving. When his hands grasped her waist, she squeaked softly as he bodily moved her, until she was almost crowded against the wall.

“You have my pants?” he asked, and she heard the zipper of his leather jacket going down.

Under different circumstances, she knew that sentence would have caused words to come spilling out of her mouth - most of them inappropriate and inopportune. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d asked her that, she smirked, remembering the other morning at her apartment.

“Felicity,” he hissed, and she snapped out of her thoughts, blindly reaching for the messenger bag slung over her shoulder.

Depositing her tablet inside and ignoring the rush of butterflies in her stomach, she felt around behind her for his suit, finding it immediately. 

She heard the rustle of fabric as he let his jacket fall to the floor. He had his dress shirt on underneath the leather jacket, along with his tie, but there’d been no way for him to keep his suit pants on beneath.

Felicity swallowed, remembering the heated glare he’d thrown her way when she’d laughed after telling him just that - and he reminded her that he usually didn’t wear anything underneath them.

She wondered if he’d done that tonight.

A bolt of heat traveled straight through her to her very core, and she trembled at the force of overwhelming desire that hit her.

Her breathing became shallower as the blood pounded through her ears. Her fingers worked the pants from the hanger, her body molded to his, and she knew he could sense her reaction.

His hands found her hips and they slipped beneath her top, forefinger and thumb skirting the edges of her skin. She inhaled sharply, almost dropping the pants as she shoved them into his chest.

She heard him chuckle lowly in her ear and suddenly she narrowed her eyes. Two could play that game.

As soon as he’d taken the pants from her hands, she smirked, moving her right leg forward so the entire length of their bodies were pressed against each other, her knee just inside his thighs.

He grunted, and she let her hands splay against his chest, fingernails digging in over the crisp white linen, feeling his nipples harden underneath, his muscles bunching as she trailed down to his waist.

“Fe-li-ci-ty,” he ground out, his head falling forward to rest against the top of hers, and she’d never felt as powerful as she did in that moment.

Boldness swept through her and she ran her fingers along the edge of his pants, deft fingers moving to the closure and popping it open before pulling down the zipper.

The low growl that erupted in the small space coincided with her lips meeting the underside of his jaw as she pushed up on the balls of her feet, teeth scraping against the short stubble.

The breath rushed out of his lungs and his pants were forgotten as his hands returned to her hips, fingertips digging into her skin as he lifted her in one fluid motion and turned them, pinning her against the wall behind them.

She couldn’t see anything, but the faint glint of his eyes, and that only heightened all of her other senses. Everywhere they touched, she was on fire, her nerve-ending alight and shooting off signals that had her legs wrapping around his waist and her hands finding his shoulders for purchase before shifting up and into his hair as she pulled him to her.

Her fingers ran over the the angles of his face, realizing with a start that he still wore his mask. With deft fingers, she slipped it up and off his head, smiling against his mouth. She could feel his eyes on her and found herself wondering - not for the first time - if he could see better in the dark than most people. The mask dangled from her fingers as they stayed pressed together and she let the thin strip of elastic slide down her arm so her hands were once again free.

His breath ghosted over her skin, and her whole body ached for him, not having his lips on hers making her body react in a desperate manner. Her hips bucked against his and they both groaned as his hands spanned her ass.

Their breaths mingled, foreheads touching as they stilled, momentarily caught up in each other, everything else falling away as for one moment, the only thing in either of their world’s was the other person.

Felicity finally couldn’t take it any more, canting her head up, her mouth barely brushing his.

That small touch sent a shockwave through her body, and apparently his, because the dam broke and suddenly his lips were covering hers and she was pulling him even closer if it was possible. She couldn’t get enough of him - wanting to bury herself within him.

Their tongues tangled, dancing a now familiar dance, her hands coming to bracket his face as he held them against the wall, his hands never idle, constantly caressing, digging in, kneading.

She responded to him wholly. Her entire body came alive at his touch, and she could feel his own reaction pressing into her thigh.

When she finally had to pull away for air, he kept going, trailing searing kisses down her throat and making her writhe in his arms when he found that particular spot just beneath her ear. He latched onto her earlobe, causing her to gasp and then slid his tongue up and traced the industrial piercing.

Her head fell back with a thud, as he moved back to her throat and then to her collarbone.

Her hands roamed over his chest and down until they were pressed between them, almost at her destination when her phone buzzed again in her back pocket.

She was ready to ignore it but it didn’t stop and Oliver let out a low growl as he slid it from her back pocket and held it up between them.

As the fog in her brain began to clear she remembered where they were and what they were supposed to be doing.

She saw Oliver grimace and then heard his cursory swear as he let out a short, stuttered breath and slumped forward, his head resting against hers as they both fought for breath.

“Your speech…” she immediately gasped, and began pushing against the wall of his chest, knowing they didn’t have any more time.

Oliver held her still, hands clamping down as she began to squirm against him. “Hold on,” he gritted out and she realized that she wasn’t helping matters.

A small chuckle bubbled it’s way up from her chest at the entire situation and soon she couldn’t keep it inside. It spilled forth into the small, crowded space, now warm from the heat they’d generated.

She snorted and let her head fall to the crook of his neck, and finally felt him relax, his own chest shaking slightly underneath her cheek.

“Digg’s going to kill us,” she murmured between giggles.

“He’s stalling for ten more minutes, but I don’t think we should push that,” he replied, his voice still low and throaty, sending shivers down her spine at the way she responded to it.

“Right,” she agreed, and slowly, Oliver let go of her legs and she slid them down to the floor.

Knowing that still being able to touch him wouldn’t help, she tried to put space between them, but barely managed an inch. Every time she moved, she still bumped into him.

When she heard him start to shift again, she realized he was trying to get his leathers off and immediately sank to the floor, hands searching for the dropped suit pants. 

“Aha!” she whispered triumphantly when her fingers brushed the fine Italian material, picking them up and making the mistake of looking up at Oliver.

“Got them!” she told him, and it wasn’t until he released a long breath that she realized her position.

“It’s a good thing there’s no lights in here,” she heard him mutter as she reached out, wanting to help him, but only managing to land on bare thigh, hard muscle coiling beneath her fingers.

Her name was a hiss from his lips, and she squeaked out an apology as her lips curved upwards, wishing they had more time. The heat from his skin seared through her and her fingers tightened reflexively which only earned her another low growl.

She heard the control he usually kept so tightly wound close to snapping and quickly snatched her her hand away, biting down on her lower lip and trying carefully to avoid touching him until she heard the zipper close on his suit pants. Slowly, she stood then, taking deep, even breaths as an intimate silence settled around them.

“Jacket,” he asked after a few moments, and she reached behind her to unhook his suit coat, handing it to him.

A second later, she could tell he was listening at the door, his hand finding her shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

Slowly, she reached for the handle and turned it, the bright lights of the hallway almost blinding her momentarily. As they moved, her heel caught in his leather jacket still on the floor, and she began to trip. His hands caught her around the waist, and they both fell out of the small space together.

He managed to kick the leather suit back behind him as he shut the door, both of them giggling and providing good enough cover lest anyone randomly be in the back hallway.

When it became apparently they were indeed alone, Felicity looked up at Oliver, noticing his tie was askew. Smoothing it down, she felt him pull her into his arms, hands resting familiarly at the base of her spine.

“You need to go,” she murmured as he leaned down towards her. “Or Digg’s going to send out a search party…and we’re going to get a lecture about appropriate and inappropriate times to…”

Her words trailed away, swallowed by his mouth as his lips covered hers in a soft kiss that left her lightheaded. This one was different than their desire-filled ones in the closet. This one was a promise of things to come, and a statement of everything he felt.

She loved these kisses. Oliver Queen was not a man of many words - although he used them with her more than most - but everything he didn't say out loud, he poured into his actions. His kisses were no different. Wrapped up in each one was a declaration of what he was feeling - and sometimes - like with this kiss - everything he couldn't find the words to say.

When he pulled back, a smile formed on her lips, and she slowly opened her eyes.

“There’s never a wrong time for that,” he told her, emotion-laden voice washing over her, and she nodded.

“I’ll meet you out there,” she whispered when she found her voice, pressing up on her toes to brush her lips against his once more. 

“I’ll be waiting,” he replied as he drew away, taking a deep breath and giving her one more look, winking at her as he slipped through the door and into the crowds of people.

She jumped at a throat being cleared behind her, and whirled, hand over her heart to find Diggle smirking at her with raised brows. 

Sending him a glare, she rolled her eyes and held up her hand. “Don’t even start. Just help me get his stuff out of here so I can change. What are you doing back here anyway?”

“When he finally replied to the text I sent your phone, he told me he didn’t want you alone back here. I circled around to make sure the men who followed you guys were gone and then headed here,” he explained, opening the door to the closet she and Oliver had just exited.

A faint blush rose to her cheeks as her hand flew to her ear when she realized their comms were still in, and Digg must have heard more than he bargained for in that exchange.

“Don’t worry, I turned it off after ‘do you have my pants?” he grinned, and her blush grew.

Picking up Oliver’s leather’s she stuffed them in the messenger bag and handed it to Digg, tucking his mask into the side pocket along with her tablet and zipping it up.

Digg said nothing more, simply held out his arm for her and she relaxed, taking it as he lead her back to the private backstage bathrooms where she’d left her own dress for the evening.

Fifteen minutes later, she was out amongst the crowd, listening as Oliver charmed the crowd with a heartwarming speech about what this benefit meant to him, and what he wanted to do for the city.

Her heart warmed listening to him, pride blossoming with each word and the roar that followed from the invitees.

As he made his way off stage, he shook hands with the Mayor as well as Detective - now Captain - Lance who leaned in and whispered something to him that caused Oliver to take a deep breath, his eyes closing for a moment as he nodded in gratitude.

She smiled at the growing friendship between the two men after the years of animosity, knowing how much it meant to Oliver to have Quentin’s support.

Her feet moved towards him without thought, carrying her closer and closer as he edged his way towards her, as if they were magnets drawn to each other by some unseen force.

When she was finally within touching distance, she reached out, her hands smoothing down over his lapel as he stepped up and into her space.

She met him halfway as his lips descended on hers, her arms winding around his shoulders.

“You were great, Mr. Queen,” she murmured when they pulled back, and he brushed a kiss over her cheek.

“Thank you,” he breathed in reply against her ear, so only she could hear. “Did Digg get everything out?”

She nodded, pulling him with her out onto the dance floor as the band began to play once more.

He brought her against him easily and she fit into his hold as if that’s exactly where she belonged, her head coming to rest on his broad shoulder as the world faded around them.

Her eyes slipped closed and she got lost in the feeling of being in Oliver’s arms, the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear and the gentle rhythm of his thumb gliding back and forth over her knuckles.

When Oliver leaned down, his warm breath ghosting over her ear as he whispered words that sparked and then ignited the fire that had cooled from their earlier encounter, she tightened her hold on him, lips curling into a smirk as she tilted her head up and kissed his jaw, nipping gently before soothing it with her tongue.

“I’m holding you to that Mr. Queen,” she replied, her voice deep with awakened desire and need for the man whose heart was intertwined with hers. 

“By the way, this dress is like your Arrow pants...I can’t wear anything under it either…”

His breath halted, stuttered, and although he barely missed a step in their dance, she smiled up at him, his eyes glinting with a promise to finish what they started in that closet.


End file.
